Shadows
by Yuuki no Yume
Summary: Everyone has something they hide, and Jason Cross has a big one. For years a "voice" has tormented him over being locked in the shadows of Troy and the other Wildcats. Until finally,he comes to a decision of how to act upon it; losing friends and school.


Wuh. I haven't posted here in ages, but had a sudden inspiration to work on Shadows. The first chapter is totally incredibly dark, but it's the main introductory. No worries, over the course of the story-- we will find out his decision behind this all, and of course how everything falls ;) please enjoy, and comments are always welcome! :D

**SHADOWS **

CHAPTER ONE : DEPARTURE

The voice was silent for once, not an echo going throw the male's head. It was a strange sensation, considering for the last few months the creature in his head hadn't shut it's reeling mouth. It enjoyed the torture and torment, and had certainly grown over the last few years. Yet, as he sat facing the dark silhouette in the corner of the room, it had all but died. The voice that had been so mocking for years had silenced, even if it was there, telling him without doing anything at all exactly what to say.

He had to wonder how it managed to have such control of him in the short amount of time, it was impossible. He'd had it down in the surface of his mind for years, pushing it back. He always overcame the voice that so desperately wanted to end everything in the world around him, that laughed every time he mentioned the word _friend._ Such a funny word after all, it was impossible that he would have friends. He was the loser, the underdog. The one everyone knew people secretly laughed at. Always.

This frustrated him. He was always in the **shadows **left forgotten as his friends got all the fame. It had been the entire reason this other side of him had appeared at his young age, cruel and cold. Always coming up at the wrong time, spiking up when someone got credit and he was left alone. He knew they deserved it, but it certainly couldn't be fair that when he did something right he got few words when the others got cheers. He never knew anything of the lime lot the other wildcats experienced, which certainly "sucked" in the terms of the sense.

Now, however was the time to change that. Everyone knew, that in order to get what you want you must first work at it. And so he had, the male had plotted and formulated for months, letting every nerve ending in his body feel the pain that would reside. Practice, makes perfect, but he wasn't anywhere near suicidal. No, he just wanted them to see he was more then they thought. Why couldn't he be? He was just good at basketball as the rest of the team, and perhaps he wasn't as bright as everyone else--but there had clearly been a logical reason. He shook his head, remembering clearly the yelling mother--his mother-- in the kitchen, threatening his younger brothers.

Not any more. It was time to end it all, he took a breath, turning away from the person he'd brought down. There was nothing to do, he knew, that appropriately would fit. He wouldn't kill his friend, for that was the easy way out. Something more childish then even he was prepared to do, no he wanted his friend to know not go to jail. Besides, he did consider the male a friend, simple as that. . No matter what the voice in his head was constantly echoing, and hurting him would be like hurting himself.

He simply had to figure out the way that wouldn't be so petty. He frowned the feeling unfamiliar on his lips, he never frowned, or at least rarely did. Funny thing was, the last few weeks frowning had grown into a huge accumulation. He was constantly frowning, constantly losing the happiness and joking that flooded through his body. He wasn't anything like the class clown anymore, more so he was like a person no one wanted be around. _Like they wanted to be around you to begin with._

Inwardly the male growled at the voice. They had wanted to be around him, still did. If they didn't, how come he had been--was so popular? _Because you are friends with Troy, nitwit._ His brows furrowed. No, that wasn't it, it couldn't be it. They came to him when Troy was no where near, they talked . . Joked. He was friends with Kelsi before she even began talking to Troy . .Taylor too, had been more of a "secret" friend, but they had gotten along well enough. It couldn't just be because he was friends with Troy, no that was silly. He wasn't popular, or with friends, because of Troy--he wouldn't believe it, ever. He was after all, his own person, no matter how people liked to call him and Zeke "Troy's puppies". No.

How desperately he wanted to believe all this. Every time he pushed back the incriminatingly dark thoughts, new ones reared their ugly head and found their foot hold in his mind. It was hard to control the thoughts of something, when all it did was find the wholes to enter your thoughts. Glaring at the red painted locker before him, he clicked it open in one swift motion. Wildcats. 23. Hn. He certainly didn't feel like a Wildcat, hadn't for a long while. All the pep rallies, cheerleaders, dates, everything the others raved over didn't mean anything to him. Not any more, never really did. If he wanted sex he'd get it, but he didn't want it. He wanted . .well.

Shaking his head, he reached in and yanked the jersey off with it's mocking words of "WILDCATS. 23. CROSS." embroidered in gold text. It was all a lie, always. Jason Cross knew this for out a doubt, a smirk flitting on his lips at the irony behind it all. Cross was cross, funny, eh? Cross enough to want to quit the team, leave East High and all of it's memories behind him. Why cling to a place where his mind knew he would never be appreciated? Try to find some type of limelight when hidden behind the big shots of Troy Bolton and Chad Danforth? No. It was silly, he'd never reach past their shadows as long as he stayed there, or they lived. And killing them, certainly wasn't what he wanted to do. He was angry at them, but he didn't despise them--in reality, didn't blame them all the way for being in the shadows. He just needed to find his place, and somewhere else offered this.

"Jason?" the male's voice broke his thoughts and he frowned, slamming the locker door shut in such a way the black lash of sound made him wince. He was having absolutely no control of his actions, it seemed, tch. Cool it, Cross. It's silly to become worked up now, you're finding your place now, after all. Even if. He sighed, turning around, leaning loosely against his old locker door. Jason's eyes were a darker, harsher shade of green--letting the anger flit through it deeper then one would think. His face held the cold, cool air of someone who frankly didn't care what the other person said--already decided. Jason folded his arms across his chest, in a manner he always did for casualness, holding the jersey loosely in his hands.

Jason wasn't going to speak, he didn't trust his voice. Didn't trust the burning thoughts raging through his mind, nor did he much care for the lashing the darkness in his mind was saying. If he wouldn't let it kill the other male, he should at least let it have some fun. No, he wasn't letting it toy with anyone else; it had to already be having a hell of a riot right now. After all, it was near winning the battle in his head, if only he could control everything raging in him. God damn it, he was beginning to sound like some pre-menstrual cycle girl, like Taylor. Oh god that was funny, he had to stifle back a laugh at all the memories when _she_ was on her period, he always felt bad for Chad those days.

Right now, he was supposed to be serious. Hn, it was funny how he suddenly didn't feel like being serious. Almost as if, talking to this person was almost a joke. Which in the technical sense it was, he'd only brought him down here to confirm his reasoning. Jason had so much he'd care to say, do to the male--it was his **damn** shadow he was stuck behind so wholly after all, the reason this being in his mind was so dominating. He was straining against the very thing, the one that wanted to reach into his back pocket and grab the old boy scout pocket knife. It didn't have to be long, he could kill him and be on his way. Silly, though, very silly.

"What, Troy?" he finally said, raising a cool thick brow, "going to convince me what I'm doing is wrong?" Sharp, that's how his words came out--they were almost mocking, like he thought he was above even talking to the male. He wasn't, he knew the male before him was much more on a higher ranking then him--but it was the only way, the razor-ness in his voice was the only way he thought he would manage to free himself. He had to make Troy angry at him, refuse to speak, or he knew that the side of him who thought of Troy Bolton as a brother wouldn't allow him to do what he needed to do. To grow.

Jason watched his friend, his gaze unchanging from the harsh glare he held minutes before. The slow firms of a smirk flooded his lips at the shocked expression that passed Troy's own features. He seriously couldn't expect them to follow so wholly, like lapdogs that did his every bidding. Jason knew he'd never be like that, never again. He refused to be in the shadows of his friends much longer. "Dude, no way, it's your choice," Troy replied making Jason roll his eyes before kicking off the wall. "Mhm," he returned, realizing now he had spoken to the male but hadn't really invited him down. Troy had followed him, weird.

"Good, then you don't mind if I leave, right? I have to get the rest of the paperwork in order. . You know," he returned cautiously, casting Troy a look. He was waiting for the male to say something, become all "high-and-mighty" in a sense. Just what he normally was, someone who always thought he had to say something to someone . .to encourage them or pick what he thinks is best. It's always how life with Troy Bolton seemed to run, waiting for him to find the few words to stop your plans. Yet, these, were plans Jason Cross knew he wouldn't let Troy talk him out of. "You really are going to them then . .right, the knights?" the voice was silent, something more so then the normal confidant voice of Troy.

The voice nearly put Jason into shock. Troy always sounded so sure of himself, always more then capable of anything else. With the right words to say to even make the most honorable male swoon, not that Jason ever did. Troy just constantly seemed to know everything and anything that one should say, not the quiet, uncertainty of the few words just now. Jason eyed him warily, before fixating his mind on his former persona. He couldn't change now, then it may all come off as an act and Troy would see through it all. He couldn't let that happen, he needed this. "Well, what, did you expect me to follow you around like some type of puppet for the rest of high school? Listen to you get all the dammed praise? Coach's son gets all the props, eh?" he said coldly. Finding it another startling event, the words that left his lips he felt e very percent true, and along with. It just wasn't right, or fair, that Troy had become so famed and namely because his father was the coach.

It didn't take much now to be angry at him, the realization behind it all was enough to bring Jason to the senses of what he needed. Brushing past Troy, he said little more--but it wasn't like he had a choice. By the time he had made it to the edge of the room, apparently Troy had found some grip hold on his emotions and grabbed his shoulder in a swift clear manner to push him up against the prison-grid like wall that separated the gym from the hallway. Immediately something flickered in Jason, the urge to hurt Troy. At least _he_ hadn't resulted to forms of physical provocation. Jason restrained himself as much as he could, the glare hardening on his face as he stared eye to eye with Troy. "Is that really what you think?" Troy hissed, and Jason . . Felt the need to laugh.

"Seriously, Bolton?" he said, tossing his head to the side, a devilish smirk on his lips, "you don't think I know how to _think_ now? Pity on you. This is the very reason I've never liked you, you but into everyone's business like it's your _own. _I'd watch yourself there, if I were you. You could get yourself killed." Jason shot the last part with emphasis, knowing the dark side of his mind was rearing it's ugly head in a mighty joyous occasion. It had beaten him once more. Damn, pushing past Troy, Jason left the locker room and the gymnasium of East High School, for what he thought to be the last time as a student there.

Jason's buttons had been pushed so many times, he'd been ridiculed as an idiot for longer then he could bare. He'd been known by the student population, but really only as "Troy Bolton's friend." 'Basketball player'. He'd been popular for the mere reason he was with Troy, with a team that was champion. Nothing more, no one really knew him. He'd faded into the shadows long before he entered East High School, the day he met Troy Bolton. Yet, there was always one person--someone who knew him long before they knew Troy Bolton, before he felt shadowed. She would always be there for him, at least he hoped, and even now there she was. The cold air seemed to dissolve as the male caught sight of the petite female in the courtyard. Leaning against the waterfoutain, she held propped open the copy of Hamlet they were having to read, brunette locks falling elegantly on her shoulders--as her ocean blue eyes, hidden behind glasses, darted across the page. Kelsi.

She'd never abandoned him, nor he her. She saw him without the shadow, yet. Everything was changing, seasons and his life. It was all by his choice, and as he approached her--the soft smiles falling on both their lips, he had to wonder how this would affect them both. For this was all a new beginning from shadows. The only question was, what would fall in it's place.

* * *

as I said, dark. this was incredibly hard to write -nods- Spent an hour and a half going "wuuuuh?" as he slid off my finger tips. Sorry if it's not up to scratch, I'm getting back into fan fictioning. Jason isn't a dark character, as we know, but do we really known what goes on behind his mind? well. That's what this is about :] enjoy again! once again reviews, good and bad are welcomed.

She'd never abandoned him, nor he her. She saw him without the shadow, yet. Everything was changing, seasons and his life. It was all by his choice, and as he approached her--the soft smiles falling on both their lips, he had to wonder how this would affect them both. For this was all a new beginning from shadows. The only question was, what would fall in it's place.


End file.
